


Death in Paradise Alternative Universe Series Three: Episode 3 - Ice Cold in Honoré

by HeatherTN



Series: Death In Paradise Alternative Universe Series Three [3]
Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 16:14:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/967985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeatherTN/pseuds/HeatherTN
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuing on from 'Deadly Business'. Someone is 'tidying up' any witnesses involved with the Martin Bayliss case, and plan a particular chilling fate for Detective Inspector Richard Poole.</p><p>The third 'Episode' in my 'Alternative Universe DIP Season Three' series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Death in Paradise and characters are the property of Red Planet Productions and Series Creator/Writer Robert Thorogood. All other characters are mine. Just borrowing 'em for a bit of Liming!

Richard looked at the cup of tea Dwayne had placed in front of him, slightly stunned.  Dwayne had asked if Richard had wanted a cuppa but Richard was so intent on asking him about Lily Thompson, he hadn’t really taken on board what Dwayne was doing.

Richard raised his eyebrows at the sight of the mug of brown fluid in front of him, cautiously taking a sip under Dwayne’s intense stare. Bracing himself, Richard swallowed and nearly fell off his chair with shock. The tea was bloody gorgeous!  He looked up at Dwayne, opened mouthed and speechless.

“Thought it was about time we learned more about this tea drinking thing Chief. I can report back that I Have passed the test.”

Richard gave Dwayne his best puzzled look.

“Yes Chief, we’ve been taking lessons from Catherine Bordey. Well worth it I think by the look on your face!”

Richard started to reply but began to cough instead.  The shock of having a great cup of tea made in the station itself was making his cold resurface.

“You ok Chief? Don’t make me tell ‘em my first tea made you choke!”

Richard’s coughing slowed down and he cleared his somewhat sore throat.

“No, s’ok. It’s a bit of a cold that’s been brewing since I’ve got back.  It’s nothing really.” He said, dismissively waving his hand, “it’s getting late, time we shut up shop.”

At that point, Richard’s mobile phone rang.  It was Camille.

“Richard, aren’t you done there yet! We’re waiting for you!”

Richard had forgotten he was to join his colleagues at La Kaz.  He didn’t really feel like it but was too restless after the previous week’s stresses, admitting to himself as much as his bed and Strepsils ™ called to him right there and then, he needed the cheer and the company of his friends.

“Dwayne has just come in.” he replied, looking up at Dwayne who had somehow changed in to a casual shirt in a split second, “he’ll be down in a minute.  I’ve got some paperwork to file and will lock up. Should be with you in about twenty minutes if that’s ok”

Camille replied her affirmative and hung up.

Richard coughed again, his throat quite irritated. Ordinarily he would scoff at the suggestion but a large glass of local hundred and ten percent raw cane rum with the dreaded lime would probably do him some good.

“You go on Dwayne, they’re waiting for us. I’ll be down presently. “

Dwayne smiled and did not waste any time getting out of the door.  Richard returned the smile, actually almost feeling happy, but the mood was suddenly tempered by the memory of his mother and his ex-wife standing together in a small but exclusive hotel in Knightsbridge on Richard's wedding day.  Neither glad to be in the company of the other. 

He sighed, getting up out of his chair and taking the stack of paperwork to the filing cabinet close by, wasting no time placing them in the appropriate folders.  Standing back, he began to feel a little light headed again and momentarily reached out to steady himself feeling flushed and exhausted, his chest feeling quite tight.  That was resolved by another brief coughing session. Shaking his head, he grabbed his coat and briefcase and set the internal alarms, then stepped out on to the veranda to shut and lock the doors.

“Detective Inspector Richard Poole?”

The heavily accented voice startled him and he turned to face whoever had somehow managed to sneak up behind him. But before he had a chance to respond, Richard felt his head being grabbed and smacked hard against the wooden door frame, then he felt nothing at all.


	2. Chapter 2

“He said he would be down.” Dwayne said to Camille as she looked at her watch for the umpteenth time in the last ten minutes.

“But that was nearly half an hour ago! I bet you he’s gone back to the shack!” Camille grouched.

“No, he’s definitely coming Camille.”

“Yeah, right!”  She snorted.

Fidel joined them. He had finally plucked up the courage to see Juliet earlier that evening and really needed a drink.  It had not started well, with the two shouting at each other but then in the next moment, Fidel found himself on the floor with his wife in a passionate embrace.  But for all their frenzied lovemaking, it was not be enough and Fidel realised he and Juliet still had a long way to go before their relationship could be repaired.  At least they knew they still loved each other yet were still strangers in a lot of ways.

Smiling quietly at the memory of Juliet sitting next to him naked with her arms around him and the two beginning to talk rather than shout, Fidel turned his attention to Dwayne and an obviously annoyed Camille.

“What’s the matter?” Fidel asked.

“The Chief was supposed to come here about fifteen minutes ago, but Camille reckons he’s gone home.” Dwayne answered.

“I thought he was here with you. The place is all shut up and the car is still in the square.”

The three looked at each other and without a word got up and quickly left.

 

He awoke in darkness and was freezing, his forehead throbbing and he felt sick.  He tried to sit up but found he couldn’t as a wave of dizziness engulfed him.  Slowly Richard began to touch his face with his hands and could both feel and smell the blood there.  He also realised something else, he was naked but this time not accidently on a hot beach with friends but in a pitch black freezing cold place God knows where.

 

Rounding the corner, Camille, Dwayne and Fidel saw the Defender still parked in its usual place and indeed the station was locked up but with Richard nowhere to be seen.  Quickly they mounted the steps which set off the automatic external lights.  By the main door lay Richard’s briefcase.

“Camille,” Dwayne said softy, “take a look at this.  There’s blood on the door frame.”

Camille and Fidel moved in for a closer look, a cold sweep of fear going through all three as it dawned upon them Richard Poole most likely had met with violence and also possibly abducted.

 

Richard was shivering uncontrollably as he tried to get up on to at least his hands and knees.  He still felt sick and disorientated, but was determined not to give into fear and began, as best he could with his head spinning in all directions, to assess his situation.

That he was in some sort of cold storage area was a given and knew he would succumb to hypothermia very quickly given his current state.  A sharp pain in his left side caused him to fall sideways and gasp as he connected with the stone floor, bringing tears to his eyes with the pain.

Richard rolled on to his back and despite the severe discomfort, began to laugh quietly at the stupidity of the situation.  ‘So this is how it’s going to end’, he thought ‘freezing to death on a tropical island. Typical.’  And with that thought, pain or no, Richard found his laughing building almost hysterically at the irony of it all. The ‘pinnacle’ of his career would to be found naked, dead and frozen on the small tropical island he had all but been banished to by The Met.

At least he’ll be the topic of a few good laughs down the Croydon Nick Social Club…..

 

Camille had to literally bite her tongue in an effort to quell the rising frustration and hysteria that threatened to overwhelm her.  She was pacing back and forth in front of Dwayne and a visibly upset  Fidel, the three of them trying their best to figure out where to start looking for their Chief.  That he had met with violence was pretty obvious as they had also found some torn material on the balcony and scuff marks along the ramp to the right of the building. She had also felt a rise of nausea when fragments of hair had been found along with the blood embedded in the door frame, which had also splintered from something impacting with it.

“Where is the Commissioner, he should be here by now!” Camille snorted while throwing her hands up in the air.

Dwayne could feel her frustration as it seemed to be an eternity since they had called Government House to page Selwyn Patterson.  The other police personnel they had called were mustering in the square below.  Also there seemed to be a crowd of townspeople gathering too as word was getting about something big was happening.

One of the part time regular police officers Molly Duggatt cautiously walked up the ramp on to the veranda which had been cordoned off.  She noted the heavy sorrow of her three senior officers as they stood close by talking in whispers.

“The team is all but gathered, just waiting for Marcus to get back from St George, should be here soon.” Molly said quietly. She and her husband Marcus had signed up to the Saint-Marie Police Force some months back and were quickly gaining a reputation of enthusiasm and quick learning. It helped they were also ecologists who knew all of Saint-Marie like the back of their hands and nobody minded that they were married.

“Good. “  Replied Camille, “Fidel, can I ask you to enter the station and take Molly plus three others with you and, I hate to say this, go over the place with a fine toothcomb.  I know we don’t have much in the way of forensics gear but we can do it and well.”

Fidel nodded. Although in rank he was now Camille’s equal, he wasn’t going to hesitate to bow to her experience. 

“We’ll not one speck of dust get past us. “ He replied, while cutting the tape across the public entrance to the station.

Dwayne stepped forward. 

“I’ll take Marcus when he gets here and a few of the others and see if we can find some witnesses Camille.  I’m hoping someone will have seen something.”  He said, turning to look at the gathering crowd in the square.


	3. Chapter 3

Richard awoke with a start.  Somewhere along the line, he had momentarily passed out, had come to and unable to feel his hands or feet.  He felt sluggish and was not shivering, a bad sign his foggy brain realised.   Trying to sit up again was difficult and painful but he somehow managed it.  Looking around again Richard began to notice a small light above his head and could just about see the shape of a lamp, then the shape of a desk in front of him.  Despite his disorientation, he managed to pull himself up on to his feet and stumbled forward, his hands grasping along a row of boxes beside him. 

He reached the desk after what seemed to be an eternity, finding a seat to rest on.  He realised he was in a cold storage locker where the temperature was kept at least minus four degrees Celsius.  He would die quite soon from hypothermia and knew he would not be found for a while as the cold rooms tended not to be opened for days at a time.

But Richard remembered something about cold rooms and freezer lockers used in Saint-Marie.  Due to a spate of accidents where workers had been accidently locked in, each cold room and freezer locker had some sort of alarm system, some even had phones such as this one thank God he spied mounted the wall close to the desk.

 Praying that his abductors hadn’t destroyed the connection, Richard groped his way along the short distance to it, lifted the receiver then dropped it as his head began to swim. He swore under his breath as his hands, which didn’t seem to follow instructions, were slow in grasping the thing but eventually he managed to lift it to one ear.  Whispering a ‘thank you’ to whatever Saint or deity had charge of unlucky Detective Inspectors,  his heart beat a little faster as he heard an audible click then a dial tone and started tapping on the switch hook.  Within moments he heard a voice.

Richard found he could barely speak as the voice at the other end urgently asked which locker he was calling from.

“I..don’t know. Too dark, I’m Richard Poole, a Detective Inspector with the Royal Saint-Marie Police Honoré Station…contact Sergeant Camille Bordey,  please, I need help..”

Richard’s head began to spin again as the effort of merely talking sapped him of what little strength he had, dropping the receiver when his legs finally gave way, spiling him back on to the cold floor.

 

 

“I don’t know. No one knows Commissioner!  No one has seen or heard anything but I am sure that Richard has been at least assaulted, maybe abducted.”  Camille was having difficulty in keeping her patience with Commissioner Selwyn Patterson, yet felt intimidated by his intent gaze.

“I am not criticising you Detective Sergeant, just want to know what it is you do have. I understand it may not be much but you have done well to get things started. Now, tell me about the last time you and the team saw Inspector Poole….”

Placing a comforting arm on Camille’s shoulder, Patterson quietly listened and digested Camille’s statement but internally began to panic that he very likely had lost another Detective Inspector to a murderer.

 Dwayne, Fidel and Marcus who had arrived, were still questioning those gathered in the square and then got lucky.  A woman was leaving her office situated in the block opposite the road up to the square and had noticed  a dark coloured van leave after the station lights had darkened. Yes, she had noted the direction it had taken, on the upper street heading to the north west of town. Fidel had questioned her closely on the time as it had not been that long after he had passed by on his way to La Kaz from Juliet’s Mother’s home.

Camille noticed Dwayne and Fidel in an earnest conversation with a woman, briefly nodding to Commissioner Patterson who had joined the volunteer and part time regulars, walked down the hill to meet them.

Dwayne looked up and smiled.

“Sarge, this is Marie Lautier.  She works at the accountants in Seaward House over there, and was leaving about the time the Chief was supposed to.  She says she saw the lights of the station go out and while securing the door to her office, noticed a large dark vehicle, she thinks was a van come down out of the square and turn up in to North Street.”

Camille took a deep breath, looking at the anxious Marie and an even more distressed Fidel.

“Miss Lautier, can you describe in more detail about this vehicle you saw, no matter how slight as it is important.”

The woman looked even more anxious, almost on the verge of tears.

“I..I am so sorry! I didn’t think of anything at the time, I just saw it come down to the roundabout and turn up the street. It wasn’t going fast or anything, and it was only a few minutes after the station went dark.  It was a big van I do know that, black or dark blue, I don’t know which.  I just didn’t think to..I mean nothing was ….”

Camille gently laid a hand on the witnesses arm.

“It’s all right. No one expected this, none of us.” She said, casting a sympathetic look at Fidel standing quietly close by, “but you have given us a lead, a good start. Thank you.”

Marie smiled a little.

“I hope you find him. My aunt was one of those who had invested in Leon Hamilton’s Paradise Beach scam and who lost everything except the dress on her back. She lived with me afterwards but committed suicide last year.  Inspector Poole and you all managed to get justice. I’m only sorry Aunty Betty didn’t live long enough so see that done.”

Camille nodded, and briefly touched Marie’s arm again and nodded, unable to speak.

 

Molly quickly flipped her phone shut.  She had received a call from a local inter island phone and radio exchange via the emergency all-call and found herself running through the crowd in the square.

“Camille!” She called out. “The Chief is alive!”

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Jennie Hall thought she had been dreaming when her phone had rung and an automated message had announced a call was being directed from sub-station SM – 34/2, she knew to be one of the of the cold lockage stores south of the island. If a call or alarm was triggered, the call was automatically routed to a list of volunteers who would respond, but no one had had to for a number of years. Jennie was even more surprised when a male voice responded, sounding very ill.  Jennie had started to try and reassure the British man who announced he was a police officer,  but the line went dead and when it did she flew out of her bed without wasting a second

 

Fidel had never driven the battered Defender so fast in his life. He knew the area where they were racing to, with Dwayne close behind on the Enfield.  Camille had pressed her hands on the dashboard to steady herself from being knocked around as the vehicle had literally taken off over the bumps, her seat belt barely restraining her. But neither said a word as they raced at breakneck speed through the dark, not caring about the many near misses with trees, rocks and uneven edges.

They had been informed that a person claiming to be Detective Inspector Richard Poole had called from one of the more isolated cold stores which lay just outside a small fishing village which was used by a small co-operative group during the busy months of the summer. But the store hadn’t been used for a week or so, and no one had expected anyone to be around it, let alone be in it.  After an eternity, the lights of the Defender hit on a gate with a pad lock still intact and secured the place in darkness. One of the villagers was supposed to meet the team but no one was around.

Camille leapt down out of the car and ran over to the gate, giving it a good kick. Throwing her hands up in frustration she ran back to the Defender.

“There’s no one here Fidel! I thought someone was supposed to be here to open up the place!” She shouted.

Fidel had joined her as the lights of the Enfield appeared, illuminating them from behind.

“I don’t know Camille! The message said someone would be here.  I mean it’s taken us a good forty minutes to get in from Honoré!”

“Then we’ll have to get in by ourselves! I’m not going to waste another minute handing about for someone to show up with a key!”

Without another word, and with Dwayne now joining them, the three gathered a crowbar, hammer and rope. If necessary, they would rip the fence down with their bare hands if needs be.  Dwayne and Fidel started on breaking the lock, as Camille scaled the fence with a dexterity that momentarily stunned her colleagues.

After what seemed an eternity, they managed to gain access into the compound and started to work around the solitary building in the middle. There was one door, a heavy metallic one that had a bolt and bar lock. It was solid and would not be opened easily by conventional means.

“Now what!” Dwayne moaned, “That’s a lock bar bolt. We need the keys to unlatch it!”

“Maybe we can rip it out if we chain it to the car.” Fidel replied, “It would make…”

He was interrupted by Camille wordlessly snatching the hammer and crowbar from both men and started hammering on the lock, eventually replacing it with the crowbar tugging and heaving like a demon possessed.  Dwayne and Fidel stared wide eyed at Camille’s furious attack on the lock, then joined in pulling and smashing until eventually one of the levers started to give way. It took another ten minutes of bashing until the lock finally gave way and the rest of the levers could be pulled open.

“Hoy! What you ‘doin there! That’s private property!” A voice called from behind them. An elderly man was climbing out of a battered van and was walking up to the team, brandishing a stick.

Dwayne broke off from the team.

“You took your time gettin’ here!  We’re police from Honoré! There’s a man trapped in there who happens to be our Inspector!” Dwayne growled

“I don’ care who you are! I gets a call that someone was comin’ here and just to let ‘em in, and I find you breakin’ the place!”

Dwayne’s argument with the caretaker was interrupted by Fidel’s shout that they were in.

Glaring at the caretaker, Dwayne moved to join his colleagues but stopped when the caretaker started to turn away. "You hold up there! We ain't done yet!" Dwayne growled placing a firm hand on the old man's shoulder..

Camille was the first to enter the locker, her skin suddenly prickling at the sudden blast of cold, but before she ventured further, Fidel handed her a torch as they both walked in to the door.

“Richard! Where are you!” She called out, but there was no answer which started to make her blood run colder than the air around her.  The two continued searching, the beams from their torches reflecting off boxes, stacked crates as they slowly moved through the building. Before them they saw the dull glow of an internal light over a desk and by it a wall mounted phone with the receiver dangling beside it.

Now close to tears, Camille called his name again, her heart starting to break while her mind had started to accept that Richard might very well be dead, but her thoughts ceased at the sound of a low shivering moan which came from the other side of the large wooden desk. The two police officers aimed their torches in the direction of the sound and found Richard, his back towards them, curled up under the desk.

Camille dropped her torch and literally leapt over anything in her way in order to get to her colleague, with Fidel close behind. Within seconds, the two were huddled around Richard, who was naked, ice cold, semi-conscious his face covered in fresh and semi congealed blood.  They managed to extract him from out under the table, Fidel quickly removing his shirt to cover what he could of his Chief while Camille cradled Richard’s head,  as Fidel rushed past and headed to the door.

Dwayne had just about managed to calm the caretaker down when he heard Fidel’s urgent call from the cold store door .

“Dwayne! Grab a blanket and come quick!” He yelled before disappearing back inside.

With one last glare at the caretaker, Dwayne opened up the back door of the defender and grabbed a first aid kit and blanket.

“Don’t go anywhere!  In fact don’t even move until we get back!” He growled before quickly joining his colleagues.

Once in through the door, Dwayne made his way to the back of the cold room and found a topless Fidel and a highly upset Camille cradling Richard, who looked all but dead.  A low moan from his chief reassured Dwayne otherwise.

“Ok, here we go,” He said as he placed the blanket over Richard, then started to open the first aid kit. “Give me a minute and I’ll go get an ambulance.”

Camille shook her head.

“No, it’ll take too long. We’ll get him back to Honoré ourselves!”

Richard’s eyes opened at that point and he started shivering, a good sign. His voice was hoarse as he spoke.

“..don’t need a bloody ambulance! Help me up!”  He grunted, slowly pushing himself up onto his elbows and flinching a bit while Dwayne started to apply a dressing to a large cut on the side Richard’s head.

Camille moved back a little as Richard succeeded in sitting up. Richard blinked again and looked at the three anxious faces looking back at him. He groaned again at the sudden realisation that despite the lower half of his body being covered by a mix of Fidel’s shirt and a rough blanket, he had been for the second time in as many weeks, fully naked in front of his colleagues. It was getting to be a habit which did nothing to ease the exponential pain and embarrassment building up in his mind .

Richard began to turn so he could get up on to his feet but a sharp pain in the left side of his chest made him gasp.

“Bugger!” He cursed as he started to get himself off the floor.

“What!?!” Camille said loudly

“Nothing!  Nothing.  Now for the second time, help me up!” Richard growled, accepting arms and hands to help lift him on to his feet.  Once up Richard felt himself sway again and the blanket slipping from his hands as he tried to keep himself covered. He didn’t protest as Camille reached round to help hold things in place as Dwayne and Fidel took an arm each, half walking, half carrying their Chief out of the building.

 

Once outside, they sat Richard down on bench close after having to literally drag him the last few feet towards it, then starting to check him over. He was still very cold to the touch but shivering which was a good sign.  His head was covered in blood and even though Dwayne had done a good job in covering the laceration on the upper left side of Richard’s forehead, it was still bleeding profusely and quickly soaking the dressing.  Richard's upper torso was covered in bruises which caused him to flinch as he was touched.

“Ow!! Careful! That hurts!" 

His three colleagues muttered their apologies as they backed off, but even through his head was spinning at a rate of knots with his vision still burred, Richard knew they wanted some answers about his injuries.

"I..er.. vaguely remember getting a good kicking..” Richard muttered, blushing at the thought of them staring at him.

“C’mon Chief, we’ll get you over to the hospital” Dwayne said quietly as he and Fidel moved to help Richard back up on to his feet. They would get him there more quickly than having to wait for an ambulance.

Richard put up his hands and started to protest but an obvious ‘don’t you dare resist!’ glare from all three of his colleagues let him know he was not going to win any argument. Grunting with the effort, Richard slowly got to his feet with Dwayne and Fidel supporting him. Dwayne called back to the caretaker as they walked past.

“I’ll be up here to speak to you first thing so don’t think about being late next time y’hear!”

The caretaker said nothing, just throwing Dwayne an obscene gesture before clambering back in to his own truck.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

A few hours later Richard found himself on a hospital examination table, being prodded and poked, of which the most embarrassing part involved the only real way to get an accurate core body temperature which, of course,  involved a thermometer being inserted, but not in his mouth. He was even less pleased when he was going to have this done every thirty minutes as his temperature was bordering on hypothermia, only stopping when it got to the required 36.5 celsius.

His ribs were cracked in two places and Dr Adrian Rutherford was concerned that he could hear slight crackling noises at on the left side of Richard’s chest.

“We’re going to have to keep you in at least overnight Inspector. Apart from the need to monitor the concussion you have from the blows to your head, we also need to keep an eye on your chest. The ribs are not disunited but I *am* concerned you’re getting an infection there. We can knock that on the head quite quickly with intravenous antibiotics for a day or two then put you on tablets after.  But you must rest!”

For all Richard’s apparent respect for medical science, the doctor's advice was falling on very stubborn deaf ears. Richard was not going to let go of the fact there were two, maybe three persons he would very much like to get a hold of. Again a case which had become *very* personal and he was not about to let a bash to his head, pain, a bad chest nor anything else get in his way.

“Sorry doctor, that’s not possible! There are some people out there set to do some damage and we’re uncovering some big stuff. There is no way I can stay off work right now. Please, just give me what I need for the pain and infection and I’ll be on my way.”

“Inspector, intravenous antibiotics really need to be given under medical supervision, they’ll work more quickly for starters. Tablets will take longer and I am really concerned that your injuries will inhibit your breathing enough for the infection to accelerate. You are putting yourself at risk of developing pneumonia Inspector and I need not tell you how undesirable that is with someone in your condition!”

Richard knew and understood what was being said, but he could not let his assault go.

“I’ll take my chances.” He replied quietly. “I assume there’s some paperwork I need to fill out so I can discharge myself?  I do have every confidence in you but the safety of this island comes first.” 

Adrian sighed.

“Tracey, see to Inspector Poole and give him seven days of Co-amoxyclav (TM) 625 milligrammes, one to be taken three times a day with food.  Inspector I want to see you back here in one week. If this gets worse and I can assure you it will, get back here as soon as you can.”

With that, Adrian left the consulting room.

 

“He’s what!?!” Camille shouted at no one in particular.

“Discharged himself. Says he needs to stay with this case. What are we going to do Camille? He’s not well, you can see it!” Fidel anxiously replied.

Both had waited at the hospital for news about Richard but had found they had a bigger problem on their hands.

“Maybe we should talk to the Commissioner. Perhaps he could persuade the Chief to stay put for a bit…”

Fidel was interrupted by a cough.

“You’ll do no such thing Fidel. We’ll get a handle on this. Those ‘persons’ that took me down maybe responsible for two more murders on this island. We need to get that sorted as soon as possible. Now would one of you please take me back home so I can get into some *proper* clothing!”

Looking at him, the others had to agree. The knee length hospital gown, blanket covering his back where the universal design of gowns ensured the sides never met, covered an area that had seen far too much exposure as it was in the last few weeks. Richard looked pale and was gripping his side as he slowly shuffled towards Fidel and Camille.

“What about your temperature? They said you were borderline hypothermic.” Camille asked.

“Borderline Camille, not actually hypothermic and I am back within normal levels now.  Now if you please..?” Richard replied, indicating to the door.

Taking the bag of pills and advice sheets from him, Camille and Fidel remained close to Richard as they left the hospital.

 

“The man is an idiot. He's had a severe knock to his head, has been beaten about the chest and his lungs sound like someone kicking a paper bag around in there!” Adrian muttered under his breath as he watched Richard slowly hobble out with his colleagues

 “Maybe and certainly stubborn. I give him forty eight hours before he’ll be back in, probably with *SRDS at the rate he’s going.” Casper replied.

 “If that happens, he’ll probably end up directly in the morg.“ Adrian sighed, “Best to check Nellie is operational because when he collapses, and he will, we won’t have the time to get him across the water to Basse-Tierre.”

Shaking his head and wandering off to finish rounds, Adrian had to wonder at how some people could be so pig headed and the worst by far he concluded were Detective Inspectors on a mission.

 

Richard finally managed to get himself showered, into pyjamas and then took all of the prescribed medication due. He was advised to try and sit up in bed as much as possible, but decided his chair would be most comfortable.

But nowhere was comfortable and not even Harry could raise even so much as a sarcastic comment from Richard as he sat there silently begging for sleep to happen, but the discomfort of bruising, a sore chest and thoughts whizzing though his head made it a very long slow torturous sleepless night.

 

Jose looked at the two men stood to attention in front of him. He could smell their sweat of fear as he slowly walked around them. Behind him stood three others, faces expressionless with their hands ready to draw their weapons.

“Gentlemen, answer me this because I am at a loss to know how you _los ejemplos pobres de testículos de toros castrados_ managed to fail miserably in your duties!! The one person, the ONE person I wanted dead most of all is still BREATHING!! I told you to get RID of him, not put him where he could be discovered! I am MOST disappointed in you both…”

Jose paused for a moment..

“Y’know, they say the shark population is under threat because their source of food is being eroded by bad practice. Let’s help them out of their predicament..”

Jose waved a hand at his troops to remove the soon to be dead employees.

“..I’ll make sure your widows and children won’t starve either.  I am a compassionate man…”

 

(*SRDS – Sudden Respiratory Distress Syndrome. A life threatening condition where not only the respiratory systems start to fail but also other organs in the body as a result.)

 


	6. Chapter 6

“..so you saw this vehicle leave the square at what time..?”

Camille was taking a formal statement from Marie Lautier, the witness who had come forward with some important information.

“About ten, I was working late to catch up on some paperwork. I did see the lights go out not long before, but not hear anything except for doors opening and closing. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I am so sorry! If I had just…”

Camille reached out and gently patted her witnesses arm.

“It’s ok. Inspector Poole is safe, and your evidence helped to point us in the right direction so thanks to you we got him back.” She replied with a smile.

Marie Lautier smiled.

“Now, if you can, do you remember seeing anyone in the area at that time, or in the vehicle as it passed by.

“Hmm, I am not sure but I think I saw one person, maybe two after I heard the doors slam, I really can’t say, definitely one in the front though, as I was just coming out of the door as it passed by..”

“Can you give me a description at all?”

“Not really, but I think I saw that the driver had a beard as the van passed by. That’s all I can tell you.”

Camille nodded. “Thank you again Miss Lautier. If you do remember anything else, please get back in contact with us.”

Miarie Lautier rose up from her chair and was followed out of the tiny interview room by Camille. Both were stopped in their tracks by a very pale and sweaty Richard Poole slowly making his way towards his desk. It was very obvious he was having difficulty breathing.

“Richard! What are you doing here! You should be resting!” Camille rushed past her witness and caught Richard as he flopped into his chair.

“Nonsense! I have to *cough* get on with this. Witness statement?” Richard was now wheezing slightly with the effort of talking.

Camille turned away from Richard a moment, “Miss Lautier here has given us a …”

Her words were cut short as Richard slowly rolled out of his chair and slid unconscious to the floor, his face now deathly white with blue lips.

Then he stopped breathing.

 

Note - a short last chapter I know, just trying to leave you all in a bit of suspense! Hopefully the next episode won't take too long to write but will warn you it will be a little off canon in places. Hey, I'm an amateur, whaddya expect! ;-)


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